I’m confused.

Every time I step out of my house, my confusion only increases. I’m never quite sure whether it will be snowing, hailing or raining sun rays. The middle of March is a time when you never know whether a T-shirt or parka is right for the weather; whether you’ll see sleet or sunshine through the window.

I dress like an onion — embrace the layers — ready for any weather thrown at me. This means the amount of stuff I end up carrying is rather copious, leaving me to wonder whether the potential comfort is actually worth it. The changing weather leaves me wondering about other things, too.

What else changes when the weather changes? For one, snowplows are put away and replaced by the colorful umbrellas that start showing up on the streets. Snowplows are extremely good at using a lot of fuel, especially since they seem to patrol the streets whether or not there’s actually snow on the ground. If it isn’t snowplows, it’s salt.

Salt abounds — tons of it, bought cheaply, thrown about, frequently irrespective of the accumulation of ice on the sidewalks. If you ever thought about what happens to that salt after it leaves the sidewalk, you might reconsider whether it’s a good idea. If thrown next to a patch of soil, it infects the soil, disturbing its natural cycles and leaving it unfit to sustain most life. When washed away by rain, it infects the water that is sent to the sewage treatment plant, corroding pipes along the way and requiring extra energy to filter, though those never really complete their jobs. Once it gets into the water, the salt pretty successfully kills most of the life forms there, as well.

The rain that signals the coming of spring makes me think about all that washes away. In part, it washes away the winter depression, the mental recession that often dominates in the colder weather. But regardless of whether you feel those effects, the stuff that washes down our gutters affects you.

All that snow has been trapping the exhaust from cars, salts and particulates, and the garbage thrown on it. Now the rains come and all of it disappears from sight. The fact of the matter is that out of sight simply means it’s moved to another place. The principle of salt holds here too — walk down to the Susquehanna River after or during a large rain event, and you may notice a few floating objects that used to decorate a sidewalk near you.

So whether or not you understand the weather, it has an effect on something other than your outfit. Tomorrow, I will dress like an onion once again, carrying my coat back home in my arm or over my head. I will look at my sidewalk and wonder whether that wrapper could end up floating down the river, depending on the mood of the weather.